Your Wish Has Been Granted, Good Luck With That
by Thomas Van Ness Leavitt
Summary: As per Wikipedia, Freya is "a [Norse] goddess associated with war, death, love, sex, beauty" (among other things), also a form of sorcery "relating to both the telling and shaping of the future". I thought it would be a change of pace to pair a more mature goddess with an older human.


_Not quite a self-insert, but definitely not told from the perspective of a twenty-something either. I haven't read all the manga, but a quick search doesn't indicate an existing character by that name, so I presume she's an OC. ...and yeah, this is juvenile wish fulfillment. Sue me. :)_

_Honestly, no idea where I'm going to take this. Presumably, the lead character is going to wind up sleeping somewhere other than the floor, eventually, but I'm not sure how, given his tendency to piss off Freya without even trying. No wonder he's still single._

_Rated M. The lead is 50 something. You think?_

_Standard disclaimer: Oh! My Goddess ain't my creation._

* * *

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. The manga he was reading reminded him of just how empty his own life was.

"I wish someone amazing like that would pop into my life," he thought. "But that's both how it works, and not how it works... you can't just wish a relationship into life, although when they happen, they're usually completely unexpected."

He sighed again. It had been several years...

"What is this place, human?" said a feminine voice from somewhere close behind him.

He yelped in startlement, falling out of his chair into a tangle on the floor, and then twisting around look for the owner of the voice in question.

"It doesn't feel like Japan, or even Midgard at all. Where am I?!" she said.

What greeted him was nothing less than Amazonian perfection... tall, ridiculously curvy in all the right places, olive skin, the face of an angel...

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, noticing the markings on her face looked remarkably familiar to those on the characters in the manga he'd just been reading.

"Holy shit?" the angel mouthed. "That doesn't sound like a geographic location to me. Answer my question human! Where am I?"

An edge of annoyance entered her voice.

He swallowed, suddenly recalling the tendency of some of the more short-tempered characters in the manga he'd just been reading to start throwing lightning bolts around when put in the wrong mood.

"You're on Earth. In the country known as the United States, or alternatively, America. In the northern part of the state of California, near the coast of the Pacific Ocean."

She looked puzzled.

"America? Not Japan? Hmm... but that still doesn't explain why I'm clearly not in Midgard."

Her eyes strayed to the laptop screen he'd left open, and the roll of paper towels nearby. Her lips curled in disgust.

"Pathetic."

She looked him over appraisingly.

"Really, really, really pathetic."

A wave of embarrassment rolled over him, and he felt his spirit shrivel under the glare of her piercing gaze.

"This is worse than junior high school," he thought. "At least then I wasn't an old, out of condition, and overweight American otaku who reads manga dressed in nothing but his underwear at 2 a.m."

His thoughts were interrupted as he suddenly found himself fully clothed in his normal attire: jeans and a t-shirt, which strangely, unlike normal, seemed to fit him properly, instead of riding both too low and too high around his protruding stomach.

"Much better," she said.

"Let me guess... the last thing you thought before I showed up here was something along the lines of a 'wish', wasn't it?" she said, an accusing tone in her voice.

"Well, yeah..." he said, somewhat embarrassed.

"A 'wish' for someone resembling the young women I see on the screen to appear out of nowhere and fall all over you, maybe?" The tone in her voice was very flat and controlled.

"Someone like me, maybe? Though I have centuries more experience than those... children," she said, spitting the last word out.

Now that she mentioned it, he could see, ever so faintly, crows feet tracing their way along her temples, lines from the edges of her pursed mouth, that her magnificent endowment hung a little lower than it might have on a younger woman.

His thoughts along those lines were brought up short as he found himself flung up against a wall, held several inches above the floor, looking straight into the eyes, only inches away, of a profoundly enraged goddess.

"She really is beautiful," he thought, randomly. Faces had always been his thing, and hers was extraordinarily beautiful, the slight hints of aging giving it only more character and interest. Younger women had always struck him as unfinished, and only more so as he'd aged.

"Care to...," she said, then paused, and let her grip on him loosen.

"Nice save," she muttered, turning away.

It had been a long time since anyone, human or otherwise, had looked at her like that. A very long time.

"Well, now I understand what happened, at least."

He sat sprawled on the floor at her feet, back resting against the wall, head now sitting even with her mid-thighs, which were clad only in the sheerest of fabric, only inches away from... turning his head to the side, he broke out in a cold sweat, desperately trying not to think of an elephant, or rather.

"Oh!" she said, softly, and stepped away from him.

He looked up again, and she was now dressed in similar attire: jeans, and a t-shirt out of his dresser, items that fit her far better than they had ever fit him, he thought, and did nothing to disguise her more outstanding physical qualities.

"Oh!" she said again. Was that a blush he saw coloring her cheeks?!

"Interesting choice of attire. Most men would have picked something... different."

She reached down and pulled him to his feet. He swayed back and forth, trying to get his balance. Something felt off. It took him only a moment, however, to figure out what: When he looked down, he could see his belt buckle.

"Holy shit!" he said, again.

She giggled, "You're not actually limited to having just one wish fulfilled, you know. If you're going to be the companion of a goddess, I can't have you looking quite so unkempt."

"Companion of a goddess..." he blurted.

"Surely you've figured it out by now."

His face turned pale as he connected the dots, and realized the implications as outlined in the manga he'd just been reading. It seemed that his life had suddenly become potentially much more interesting, in the Confucian sense.

"Umm... you don't happen to have any sisters with a vengeful streak, do you?" he said, weakly.

She laughed.

"Honey, even if I did, I'm far, far too old for them or anyone else to dare say a damn thing about who I choose to involve myself with."

Without thinking, he opened his mouth to respond with a quip, and then saw the expression on her face.

"Eep!"

All thoughts of teasing her fled... she was terrifying, and utterly beautiful, when she got that look on her face. Clearly, no sane person would want to get on her bad side.

She sniffed.

"Better," she said, and looked around the room appraisingly. "Tsk, tsk, this will not do at all."

She snapped her fingers and the laundry hamper emptied itself, the pile of dirty clothing surrounding it disappearing as well.

Another snap, and the leftover takeout containers scattered here and there around the apartment vanished, and every surface wound up neatly tidied and clean.

Snap! The dishes piled in the sink disappeared.

Snap! The sagging twin bed was replaced by a neatly made double with freshly laundered bedding.

She frowned at it.

"It's still kind of small, but you don't have that much space to work with, so it will have to do for now."

She turned to him.

"You're still sleeping on the floor buddy-o. I'm nowhere that easy."

"Yes, ma'am."

Oops...

"Mistress. Sire. Sir."

Her scowl only got more intense as he babbled on.

Realizing he was only digging himself deeper, he drew a deep breath and shut up.

"I am so dead," he thought. "Of course I summon a tsundere, when have I ever done anything the easy way? Urd's always been my favorite character. God help me."

"Wish granted," said an amused voice inside his head, and the world exploded.

A few minutes later, he found himself looking up at a very puzzled goddess.

"That didn't have anywhere near the effect it should have," she said. "Let's try it again."

Boom!

He came to again a short time later, head throbbing. Every muscle in his body ached. Through a haze, he observed the goddess staring at her hand in confusion.

"Definitely something wrong."

He opened his mouth to speak, and she snapped at him.

"Be quiet! I'm thinking!"

Boom! The world disappeared again.

"This is 'help'?" he thought, woozily.  
"You're not dead," the voice said, laughing.

"Tsundere? More like yandere," he thought to himself. "I'm just going to play dead. I'm close enough to it already."

After a few minutes of NOT being blasted into oblivion, he cautiously opened his eyes, only to see a very frustrated goddess staring down at him in bafflement.

He groaned.

"Are you done yet?" he said. "I feel like I've done ten rounds with Muhammad Ali. Before you attempt homicide again, can I at least know your name?"

Her eyes widened, and he winced, preparing to be zapped once again.

"Freya, mortal. My name is Freya."

"Of course it is," he muttered. "I never do things the easy way."

* * *

I figured this was good enough as a stopping point. Stay tuned for more, as I'm inspired to produce it.


End file.
